Never Meet Your Heroes
by Forlorn Melody
Summary: James Vega isn't too thrilled about baby-sitting duty at Alliance HQ, even his charge is the infamous Commander Shepard. He's soon to find out that he's in for way more than he could've dreaded, or dreamed. Angst, fluff, and a ton of flirting.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Hey guys! This was originally posted at Archive of Our Own, but I thought since it fit's within 's guidelines it wouldn't hurt to repost it here. There will be a oneshot fic that's an Archive exclusive coming up though, so if you're into lemons, you might want to check out my archive there. This is mostly flirting and my idea of what happened between James and Shepard during her internment just before Mass Effect 3.

* * *

"I've got a new assignment for you, Lieutenant." Admiral Anderson turned around in his chair, facing James Vega from across the desk.

"I'm…honored sir, but why me?" James chose his word carefully. Anderson's use of titles was probably a good sign. After all the shit he had done, the promotion still didn't seem real. He was expecting to be relieved of duty at best. Dishonorably discharged at worst. _Dios tarda, pero no olvida._

The Admiral brandished a datapad. "Don't get too excited," A smile glimmered in his eyes. "For all you know, I could be assigning you to latrine duty for the duration of your next tour."

James chuckled. "A bright new line for my service record. Can't wait. They give medals for that, right? Sparkling porcelain in spite of great hardship?"

Anderson dropped the datapad on the desk where James could read it. "I'm afraid it's a little more delicate than that."

" _Guard_ duty?" James scrambled for words, doing his best to remember his place in spite of the absurdity. "I…I mean no offense sir, but I'm a marine, not a baby sitter."

Right then James swore he caught the admiral smirking down at him. "Keep reading, Lieutenant Vega. I'll trust that you'll find this assignment much suited to your talents."

The admiral had to be kidding. It wasn't even in space. Anderson wanted him to remain here in Vancouver, guarding a well known detainee under house arrest for the duration of their trial. Vega knew his promotion was a joke. This was proof—

And then he saw her picture, and his jaw dropped. "Wait." James looked up at Anderson, wide eyed. "You want me to guard Commander Shepard? _The_ Commander Shepard?"

Anderson sighed. "I doubt she'll remain a commander for long." He looked down at the datapad as if it held her obituary. "Not with everything's she's done."

"She saved the _galaxy_. _Dios mio_. Is that how we treat our heroes these days?"

"You'll be her guard, not her attorney." Anderson laughed humorlessly. "I know it doesn't sound like much, but we'll need you to stay vigilant." His gaze burned like the shadows of the sun, as his voice dipped low. "There's a lot we don't know about Shepard since she supposedly rose from the dead. She's charming. Vicious. Cunning. Resourceful."

James remembered the vids of Shepard rising from the rubble in the presidium after the Battle of the Citadel. With her arm and ribs broken in three places and a huge smile on her face, like she had just eaten _cocadas_ on the beach.

"We'll be watching you both very closely. Succeed at keeping her out of trouble and you just might get yourself a commendation, Lieutenant."

"It's…certainly an honor sir, but why a babysi—guard? If you have cameras?"

Anderson shook his head. "Anyone who's been around long enough knows that security cameras can be hacked, video feeds looped. Recent reports show Shepard's got friends _and_ enemies in dark places. We don't want to be giving them any opportunities. We need someone we can trust." Standing up, Anderson shook his head. "Someone willing to make hard choices, even in the small things." The admiral smirked. "Even when it comes to fraternization regulations. That someone is you, Vega."

Vega shook his head. That was a legitimate concern? Sure, he had heard stories, the same as everyone else in the mess hall, but he'd figured most of them had been exaggerated. He gave his salute. "Sir, yes sir."

Anderson saluted in turn. "Be careful, Vega. She might not be the hero you remember."


	2. Never Meet Your Heroes

He'd been waiting for over an hour for the custody transfer to take place. That hour seemed like five. James had worn a path through the floor in her cell, all three square meters of it, thinking of what he would say when she walked through the door. When the door finally screeched open, James jumped as he turned around.

She didn't look much worse for wear. Whatever they had done in the hospital and really patched her up. Or was that Cerberus's doing? Shepard blinked at James' salute as she stepped inside.

"Shepard? If you would hand over your identification tags, please."

James watched as she took a steadying breath, and her hands hesitated ever so slightly before pulling them off her head. Shepard squeezed them tight as if saying goodbye to a friend. The officer gulped as she dropped them into his hand.

And just like that, the door closed behind her, leaving them alone. Her eyes took him in, examining the lines of his muscles. Whether she sized him up for a fight or a roll in the sheets, James couldn't entirely be sure. "And who are you?"

"Lieutenant James Vega. I'll be your…" He almost said it, but decided to use the official term. Something in her eyes looked dangerous. "…guard, for the remainder of your stay at H.Q." James cleared his throat, adding, "Ma'am."

Shepard smirked. "You're my babysitter." She circled around him like a lioness. "Don't worry, Vega. You won't have to change my diapers.

"Too bad." The words came out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. "I was really looking forward to taking off your pants."

Then she raised her eyebrow—and his own words finally registered in his brain. _Shit_. "I uh-I mean no harm, ma'am."

She smiled briefly, turning toward the window. "I'm not going to report you for flirting, Vega." Shepard said the next part under her breath, but the silence that followed her into the room makes it loud and clear. "They wouldn't believe me anyway." Her hand touched the window, tightening into a fist.

Every Alliance Marine had done it since the Battle of the Citadel, whether they were normally interested in women or not. And why not? For months her face was plastered on every recruitment poster—they even used footage of her in the vids. Vega had seen so much of her in those days that her image was burned into his eyelids, even after he closed them at night. After a hard day training, or taking out some senseless merc band, it was daydreams about Commander Shepard that kept him sane. Of course, every fantasy is harmless until one comes face to face with the person behind it.

"I'm a citizen of the Alliance! I have rights!" Shepard shouted at the screen, her voice rising to levels James didn't even know were possible. She didn't seem so otherworldly now.

"Of course you do, Shepard, but—"

"It's _Commander_ —"

"Not until they reinstate you, it isn't." Her attorney drolled on, rubbing his face as he took in a steadying breath. James didn't envy the guy one bit. "As I was saying, it's not in your best _interest_ to be exercising the right to a speedy trial."

"We don't have time!" Shepard ran a hand through her hair, pacing back and forth. "The Reapers—"  
"Will be here any second. You've said it before. But you won't have a say in the matter if you get a dishonorable discharge. Or worse."

"Every suit in that court room _knows_ I made the only choice I could." Her voice dripped acid. James could imagine it burning holes in the floor. "Faced with the alternative they would have done the same thing."

"Not everyone believes your story about—"

"It's NOT A DAMN STORY!" She shouted, disconnecting the com before her attorney could reply. Her breaths were heavy, and her shoulders heaved. Shepard glanced up at him, her eyes still blazing. "What?"

"N-nothing, ma'am."

When she let out her breath, and flopped on the bed, James saw the control that had won her so many difficult battles. "Call me Shepard, Vega." She rubbed her face. "I'm not your commanding officer."

"You still a commander to me." He said it quietly, keeping his distance.

"I'm not a hero, Vega."

"Sure you are. Saving the galaxy twice over sounds pretty heroic to me." He stepped over to the cell's "kitchen," filling up two coffee mugs. At least the coffee beans were fresher on Earth. Walking, or stepping, rather, toward her bed, James placed the mug in her hands. Funny, her hand is so much colder than he ever imagined.

"Wiping out a system's worth of batarians isn't. Neither is teaming up with a terrorist group to-"

"Get the job done? Doesn't sound like the Alliance left you much choice. In your shoes I probably would have done the same thing."

"Shut up, Vega." She sipped her coffee, hiding her mouth, but Vega could see the smile in her eyes.


	3. Slumber Party

"So…uh, you gonna sleep or-?" James yawned as if to punctuate his point. He didn't need to look at the clock to know that it was waaay past his bedtime. The last thing he wanted was to be too tired to lift in the morning. Something had to give.

"Sleepy, Vega?" Shepard didn't look up, sipping yet another fresh cup of coffee as she studied her datapad for the umpteenth time. "There's a bed right over there if you want it."

"Look, Commander—"

"Shepard."

"—Shepard, I don't really do slumber parties, so if you could just settle down, I'll just conk out over here." He hefted up a sleeping bag as if to illustrate his point.

Shepard smirked a little. "Worried the bed's too soft for you?"

"Ha. No. But I am worried about the report I'll have to give if they find me in your bed."

Glancing up at the security camera, Shepard's face reddened. "You have a point." She looked at the bed, holding onto her datapad tightly. Why was she hesitating? Taking a deep breath, she set the datapad down, and sat down, pulling her boots off. Shepard cleared her throat, giving him a look. "No peeking."

"Aye aye, Com—Shepard." James turned too, removing his shirt. "Any idea why they didn't assign you a female guard?"

Shepard snorted. "Wouldn't have made a difference."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You play for both teams?" James threw her a playful look, and got a thorough reminder as to why he wasn't supposed to look. Even with the scars, or maybe, _because_ of those scars, Shepard looked great. He could definitely see why she filled out her uniform so—

Shepard cleared her throat. "Because I don't fraternize." She pulled her covers up, glancing down at her lap. "Not anymore, anyway."

James knew he shouldn't ask, not with how quiet her voice had gotten, but he couldn't help it. "Why?"

"I don't make the same mistake twice." She lay down, curling up underneath the blanket. "Goodnight, Vega."

His mind reeled with that one. Was it someone on her previous crew? God, was it someone he knew? Maybe that gunnery chief that had died on Virmire? James didn't know much about either of their personal lives, but the thought of the two of them— _Whoa, Vega. Slow down. Fantasize any louder and she'll probably hear you._ It took a lot of dead puppies, and counting sheep to forget she was sleeping just a few feet away from him before his mind finally shut up.

Screaming. James shot up, half rolling across the floor in his sleeping bag, reaching for the pistol he had stowed in his—wait.

The room was empty, save for the sparse furniture and the two of them. _Shepard._ James extracted himself from his bag, and stood up. A few feet away, Shepard thrashed in her bed, her eyes still closed.

"Shepard!" James hurried over to the side of the bed, reaching, and failing to grab Shepard's flailing arms several times before he caught her elbow. Her eyes shot open, flaring with blue.

 _Dios_. "Shepard! Wait. It's me. You're safe." He held her firmly, gently grabbing her free arm as she stilled.

"James?" His name came out in a strangled gasp, and sweat slipped down the side of her neck. Her muscles were stiff in his arms. Not exactly how he'd imagined ending up in her bed.

"Yeah. It's me." He racked his brain for his training. "Where are we, Shepard?"

She swallowed hard, closing her eyes tightly. "The detention center. Vancouver." Very softly. "Earth."

"Look at me." He cupped her chin without thinking. She complied, her eyes back to their usual color, though they were still dilated. "What year is it?"

Shepard nearly closed her eyes again, but then forced them back open. "2186."

His thumb traced small circles on her cheek. "What color are my eyes?" His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Brown." Shepard cleared her throat, and her breathing slowed. "Light brown. Almost hazel." She looked down at his hand, and snorted. "What are you doing in my bed, Vega?"

He let go of her like she had caught fire. "Um." He started to stand up. "I was just…."

"James, wait." Shepard, swallowed, her face reddening again. "Please. Take the bed. I'll take the bag." She stood up quickly, grabbing the bag before he could protest. The next part came out so softly, James wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear it. "I can't sleep in the bed."

He waited beside the bed, watching her, whispering, "why not?"

Shepard took a deep breath. "I can't sleep in it…alone." She squeezed the end of the bag tightly in her fist. "It reminds me of what happened…what I lost at Alchera." Her eyes didn't even look at him, staring out the window at someone who wasn't there.

"Can't argue with that." James sat down. "But you'll have to explain it to Anderson when he finds out."

Shepard spread the sleeping bag on the floor, and slid inside it. "Deal."


	4. Jane

Chapter 4 – Jane

Eeee! I'm so excited about this chapter. And I've figured out how to wrap everything up in the next chapter. Now for actually writing everything out.

James cradled the steaming tub against his chest, feeling the condensation sink into his shirt, as he pressed his free hand against the sensor and opened the door. "Hey, Shepard! You hungry? I got us some pozole verde."

Shepard herself was pacing back and forth, one hand clutching the datapad and the other tapping the screen impatiently. If she had heard him, she didn't respond.

"Earth to Shepard? Hello up there." James shifted the food to the counter next to the microwave. Her eyes flitted his way, and they immediately darted back to her datapad. Folding his arms, James leaned against the microwave. "Commander Shepard? Do you read?"

"Copy." Shepard instinctively reached for a com piece in her ear that wasn't there, and her head snapped up. "Hey."

"Heh. Got you." He gestured to the food next to him. "Hungry?"

To her credit, she glanced at soup and the chips longingly, but even then Shepard still turned away. "Not really. Thanks for the offer."

"Shepard. You can't write your own testimony on an empty stomach." James opened the bag of chips anyway, Commander Shepard's martyr complex be damned.

"Watch me." She said it with the determination of someone who had saved the galaxy twice over.

"Fine. Get yourself cross-eyed. _I'm_ going to enjoy some pozole." James realized then that he forgot bowls. Whatever. He'd just scoop himself morsels with the chips. If Shepard wasn't hungry now she really wouldn't care about him eating right out of the tub, right?

James heard her swear under her breath. "You know what I could use?"

"What?"

Shepard rubbed her face. "A drink."

James dropped the chip before it reached his mouth. "You want to go to a bar?" Was she serious?

She turned to face him, tossing the datapad on the bed. "Actually, I was thinking about ordering in, but now that you mention it—"

"We can't." It was an automatic response, as James racked his brain for the details pertaining to her detainment. To be honest, he hadn't read it that closely before signing the dotted line. He'd been too distracted by her name being plastered all over the goddamn thing.

"Sure we can." Shepard slid next to him. Her eyes glimmered as she scooped up pozole to her parted lips. He was very aware of the smell of her shampoo, or maybe it was her deodorant. She must have showered while he was gone. It smelled like spices, sweet and savory, like she probably tast— "Accused will be restrained to line of sight at all times—except for the events of bathing and toileting." Making quote marks with the fingers of her free hand, she added "No other restrictions. Not even _alcohol consumption_."

James' jaw dropped "How—"

"You left the file open on your datapad the other day. I may have skimmed it while you were fixing coffee." Her head dipped close to his and she whispered, "don't worry. I didn't open any other files. Didn't even get my fingerprints on it." Shepard's breath was hot against his ear.

 _Dios mio_. Anderson wasn't kidding. "You're a damn handful, you know that?"

"Anderson warned you, didn't he?" Shepard tossed another chip into her mouth. "Now, are you coming or not?" She turned toward the door.

"Ha. As if they'd let you leave without me," he answered as he pushed the button on the sliding door.

Leave it to Shepard to request the one thing Alliance HQ didn't have. Luckily, James, and probably everyone else in the building knew of a place just across the street: Lions Pub. Funny how across the street seemed a lot farther once they passed through the HQ security gate. James palmed a tracker in his hand, contemplating how to sneak it on to Shepard's person without looking and feeling wildly inappropriate.

Shepard cleared her throat. "You can stare at my ass anytime, Vega. Right now, I want a drink." She smirked knowingly as blood crept into his cheeks.

James shook it off. "Lead the way, Shepard."

Was it just him? Or was the street outside the joint more crowded than usual? At least his ward didn't seem that interested in losing him. Shepard paused occasionally as they headed inside, keeping him in sight. She didn't stop until she reached the counter.

"These seats taken?" She murmured to the two grunts sitting in the middle.

One of them turned, "Look I don't know who you think you are—" The rest of his reply fell onto the floor with his mouth as he took in the sight of her. His buddy had to pull him away from the bar before he could say anything else.

Shepard plopped down on one of the now empty stools as if being gawked at was as normal as "hello." She nodded up at the bartender. "Two shots of whiskey and a ginger ale."

The bartender polished a glass, glancing down at her with a killer poker face. "You opening a tab or-?"

"Frozen bank accounts, remember?" Shepard flashed him a smile, and James found himself punching in his credit number.

"And for you?"

"Rojo—" James saw Shepard throw back one shot, then another—"Beer is fine. Any beer." This would be a long night. A long, expensive night.

Shepard smirked, thumbing her ginger ale. "Worried about driving me home?"

"Hey. I'm on duty, remember?"

Shepard glanced at one of the vid screens. A biotiball game was just starting. "Lucky you."

"So, which team are you—"

"Well, well, _well!_ What do we have here?" A voice cut him off, and two hands clapped their shoulders. "Been a while, hasn't it, Jane?"

Shepard froze, and her eyes stared right through the screen. She didn't answer the guy, whoever he was, but her hand tightened on the bottle until her knuckles turned white.

"And who's _this_ lucky man?"

James turned to face him, shrugging off his grip. "Hey, lay off. She isn't interested."

The man wore a tight fitting black shirt, and a red jacket over it. Two gold chains hung lazily from his neck. "Whoa! Easy. I just want to talk to Jane here." He didn't move his other hand from her shoulder.

"What do you really want, Caine?" Shepard said it so softly, but Vega heard her threat loud and clear.

Caine grinned. "Must be tough falling from grace. Guess the whole galaxy knows who you _really_ are now, don't they Jane." He leaned in closer. "Why crawl back to the Alliance when you could come with us?"

Then James noticed two more goons creeping in behind them. "Shepard." He nudged her gently in warning.

"It'll be just like old times! You, me, painting the town Red—"

He saw her shot glass glow a dangerous shade of blue. It glimmered as it rose a smidge above the countertop, before clinking down against the wood. "James?" Her voice came out just as sharp as she stood up. "I need to use the restroom."

Caine moved to intercept her as she moved towards the hallway. "Hey! Where you going? We were just starting to catching up!"

Shepard glared at him, her fists tight at her sides. "I swear if you don't get out of my way I will urinate all over you."

"Ha! Didn't know you were into that." Caine didn't move.

James looped an arm around his shoulder, easily pulling the scrawny rat back towards the bar. "Didn't you hear the lady? She said to scram."

Once Shepard was out of eyesight, Caine lost his smile. "Jane's no lady," he shot back and ducked out of James' grip.

"Out of my way, _cabrón!_ "

The five minutes it took him to reach the ladies room stretched into hours. He hoped; he prayed that she'll still be inside when he got there. That she wouldn't have killed someone. That someone wouldn't have killed her. When James finally reached the restroom door, he hesitated. _Cool it, Santi. No need to freak everyone in there if she's just taking a shit._

"Hey! I need to scrub the toilets and change out the toilet paper. Anyone in there?" James knocked loudly, then leaned his ear against the door. Holding his breath, he waited for her reply.

"I'll be out in a minute." Shepard called out neutrally as she turned on the faucet.

James breathed a sigh of relief. And then he heard a second voice.

"Hello, Jane."

 _Shit._ Another goon.

 _THUD._ Shepard grunted in pain. James threw the door open, reaching for his gun.

"Not so tough without your guns and your pet, are you Jane?"

A lady with a thick scar running down her face, grabbed Shepard by the neck. She jerked her away from the sink. Blood dripped down one corner. James pulled out his gun, aimed- The goon pushed her back toward the sink-

Shepard ignited in blue fire, and tossed the goon against the far wall. "GET OFF ME."

The goon screamed, smacking against the tile with a crunch. Shepard's heavy breathing filled the air as she watched her assailant sink to the floor, blood trailing on the wall after her.

James stepped closer, slowly. "Shepard?" Her skin still glowed.

"What?" Shepard's voice came out in a whisper, and her eyes stared through the corpse as if it wasn't there.

"We should probably go." He put a hand on her shoulder, bracing himself for an attack.

Shepard swallowed and shook the fog out of her head. "Right."

They moved out together, with their eyes straight ahead. Neither of them wanted to draw any extra attention. It was bad enough that Shepard had blood slipping down from her eyebrow. James held his breath until her door closed behind them.

Shepard sank into the edge of her bed, letting out a heavy sigh. "That didn't work out like I planned."

James dug around in a drawer for a medigel packet. "Jane, huh?" He turned around with a grin. Then he saw her face.

"Don't _ever_ call me that." She looked ready to slug him, or worse, but she stilled her fists at her sides.

James stepped closer. "Why not?"

Her eyes pinched tight and she took in a sharp breath. "It's…not my name."

"Really?" James laughed. "That's the name on your files." He'd seen it multiple times. And yet…James couldn't remember a vid or poster using her full name. "Bet if I checked, it would be on your birth certificate, too."

This time Shepard laughed, though she looked at the counter behind him instead of his eyes. "Don't have one."

Her breaths were steadier, though her fists still had white knuckles. Now seemed a good a time as any. James tore the medigel packet open and spread it on the gash in her eyebrow with his finger tips. "A birth certificate? Or a name?"

Shepard met his eyes, her gaze firm and cold. "Neither."

James threw the packet away. "That doesn't make any sense." He turned the water on, running over his hands.

"You know why they call me Jane?"

A nickname? "Mm…G.I. Jane?" He wiped his hands with some paper towels.

"Jane Doe."

The wad he had meant to throw in the trash fell to the floor. "What?" James looked back at her.

"I was born and raised on the streets. I don't remember a father or mother." She folded her arms. "The Tenth Street Reds were the closest thing I had to family. But to them I was a little runt, unlikely to last longer than another week. I was more likely to end up in a morge than the headlines."

"Dios."

"Runts weren't much use in a fight, but we could get in and out of raid before the cops knew we were there. The Red sent runts on the most dangerous jobs. If we didn't make it back it didn't matter. There'd be plenty more street kids to take our place." Shepard glanced out the window, watching the clouds go by. "They loved sending me to downed shuttles. Eezo is hard to get in official channels. And it makes a killing on the black market." The corners of her mouth turned up. "They half expected the eezo leaks to kill me."

"Ha. I doubt anything could."

She slid next to him, dumping out her coffee and replacing it with pozole. "The minute I realized what I could do I signed up with the Alliance." The microwave beeped as Jane set a timer.

Something else nagged at him. "What about Shepard?

Her eyes glimmered as she pulled the mug out of the microwave. "I saw the name on some faded poster in the recruiter's office."

"You're yankin' my chain!" She had to be.

Shepard blew the steam off her mug, eyeing him with a smile in her eyes. "Am I?"

"You named yourself after the first guy in space." James shook his head. All of it seemed unreal. Like she had seemed the day they met. Commander Shepard was a legend, not the woman standing before him.

Shepard shrugged, sipping the pozole slowly. "It seemed as good a name as any."

A/N—Lions Pub is a real bar in Vancouver. After spending far too much time scouring Google Street Views around Canada Place (as seen in the opening of Mass Effect 3), I figured this was a likely spot. Whether it stays open another 146 years and keeps its old school décor is entirely up to interpretation.

Also, I don't drink at all, so I asked a lot of my beer and liquor aficionados for advice on Shepard's tastes and drinking habits, haha. Hopefully it wasn't too out of place.


	5. Lola

The question had gnawed at him for weeks. Countless mornings spent outside the court room, as Shepard and her defense team prepared for her trial. Afternoons in her cell, make shifting it into their own personal gym, trying to outdo each other at sit ups or pushups. Evenings spent over tubs of pozole, reviewing her testimony, guessing at the cross examinations to come. James Vega had come to know Commander Shepard in a way few others had. Calling her by her last name just seemed weird. Calling her by her first? Out of the question. Not after that evening in the bar, crossing paths with the Reds. And she'd never let him call her Commander. Not anymore.

So…what, then? James Vega had always come up with nicknames for his favorite people, but none of them seemed to fit her. And he was running out of time.

"I can't believe this is almost over." James found himself admiring the way the sun shimmered in her hair. He itched to take her out on the lawn, and make daisy necklaces or _something_. This drab cell was a waste on someone as beautiful as her.

Shepard managed a glance up from her datapad. "What makes you say that?"

James shrugged. "Come on. I've heard your testimony, _repeatedly._ There's no way they'll keep you locked up when they know how much they need you."

She huffed, returning back to her file. "You really think they're going to believe me _now?_ My story was more plausible when I still had a ship and a title." Shepard waved a hand at the room. "Now I'm just some future convict with a conspiracy theory."

"But you were right about the Collectors! I can back you up. So can those who served with you. And those surviving colonists."

Shepard tilted her head to the side, stretching her neck. "I hope you're right." She made a face at her datapad. "I swear if I look at this one more time I'll go cross-eyed."

"I think I will just from watching you." James leaned back in his seat, stretching, too.

"Too soon for dinner. Well, for you, anyway." Shepard set her datapad aside, unwrapping a ration bar and taking a generous bite. "Any ideas?" She asked with her mouth full.

He grinned as the idea struck him. "How about a game of poker?"

For the first time in days, Shepard laughed. " _Poker?_ You're the one with money to lose."

James leaned forward, retrieving a deck of cards from his leg pocket. "Who's saying I'll lose?" He shuffled them between his hands like some card shark on the Silversun Strip. "Besides, we could always bet each other's shirts."

Shepard quirked an eyebrow. "Strip poker?"

Rolling his chair closer, James's voice dropped to a whisper. "You're not scared of a little Texas Hold 'em, are you, Shepard?" See? Right there, that would have been the _perfect_ time for a nick name. If she had one.

She eyed him in her usual way, before sitting on the floor. "Deal me in."

"Actually, Shep. Why don't you deal _me_ in?" Joining her on the floor, James opened a betting app on his omni tool, and linked hers in. So much handier than carrying a case around with him, though he missed the feel of a real poker chip in his fingers.

"You must play a lot."

"Us grunts need _some_ way to pass the time."

"While us officers plot to blow up the galaxy?" Shepard chuckled, studying her cards.

James glanced at his. "Mmhm." A jack of hearts and a three of spades. Not the worst hand in the world.

"Somehow I have a hard time picturing you _playing_ _cards_ all night." Wait. Why was she raising her bet to 600 chips?

"Ha. Sure. I did _other_ things. On shore leave." How would Commander Shepard play at poker? Would she bluff her way to a big win or would she play close to the vest? Too soon to tell. James matched her bet, and Shepard turned up the next three cards in the deck. Two threes and a four! Yes! He raised his bet by 400, keeping his face level with hers.

Shepard eyed his bet on her omni tool, and glanced back up at him. She didn't look away as she matched his bet. "No strip poker on duty, then?" The corner of her mouth quirked up. Was that humor or her hand? With the ten she just laid out…she probably meant to milk this round for every bit it was worth. James almost felt bad for her.

"Nah. This one's special for you…Shepard." The nickname…whatever it would be, floated on the back of his tongue. He raised 200 this time, just to see what she would do. She matched, and laid out a nine.

"So…loser removes an item of clothing? No matter how _badly_ they lose?" She dared to smirk.

James raised one last time, blinking up at her. "Well, yeah. Otherwise you'd be naked only a couple rounds in."

"Is that what you think, Vega?" Their omni tools chirped as she matched him and laid out her cards. A king and a jack.

"Ha! Told you. Three of a kind." He laid out his cards as he leaned closer. "Pay up, Shepard."

Rolling her eyes, Shepard fingered one of the buttons on her shirt. She made a show of slowly undoing said buttons, rolling her shoulders and arching her back until the fabric slid down her skin.

James whistled as he collected the cards and shuffled them. "Not bad, Shepard. Maybe you should quit your day job."

"Ha. I might have to." She didn't blush, though James saw goosebumps on her skin.

"Cold, Shepard? Or do you just like me that much?" He dealt out the next pairs of cards, eyeing his. A nine and an eight. Their odds were pretty even. Matching her initial bet, he dealt turned over the next three cards. _Shit_. A four, a six, and a three. James kept his face level, knocking on the floor instead of raising.

Shepard snorted. "Flirt all you want, Vega. It's not going to happen." She knocked, too.

James turned over the next card. _Yes!_ A eight to make a pair with his. He raised his bet again, resisting the urge to bite his lip at the thought of Shepard losing _more_ than just a shirt.

Knocking a third time, Shepard watched as James turned over a jack. Her face didn't even twitch. He should have known she'd have an amazing poker face. How else could she face down the Council and their stubbornness day after day? James raised his bet one more time, and Shepard knocked.

Laying down his cards, James grinned. Shepard frowned, laying down hers. A ten and a three. "Really?"

"We uh…can stop if you want." The last thing he wanted to do was get on her shit list. People on that list tended to end up dead. As amazing as she'd look bare-chested, it was _not_ worth his life. Though, the way guys would talk in the mess….

Shepard smirked, unhooking her bra, and letting it slide down her arms. "Don't tell me you've never seen boobs before." She shuffled and dealt the next round as soon as her hands were free.

An ace? _Nice!_ And a seven. They didn't mesh well with the four, jack and two in the middle, but an ace was hard to beat. "I've seen more than any one on this floor, trust me." James knocked. So did she, and then she revealed a queen.

The room fell quiet around them, save for the sound of their breathing. James did his best to ignore her tits stiffening in the air conditioned room. He tried not to imagine how they'd feel in his hands, and he knocked a second time. She raised her bet, eyeing him playfully.

James swallowed, forgetting about his composure. Screw it. It's not like they were playing for credits. He matched her bet.

Shepard turned over a ten. "I'm not making you nervous, am I Vega?"

"Why would I be nervous?" He raised his bet to make a point. She knocked, and laid down a queen and five. A pair of goddamned _queens_.

"No reason. Off with the shirt, Vega."

James shrugged. His dog tags _clinked_ against his skin as the shirt came off. She eyed him slowly, and without saying a word she reached for his dog tags. He swallowed as she read his information. Shepard ran her thumb across the engraving, and James felt a great deal of blood rush to his legs. _Dios._

He didn't even realize he had a matching thumb brushing her cheek until her eyes met his. An eternity passed as they watched each other, and waited for the other to move. And then a force greater than gravity pulled their faces closer together. James hardly heard the knock on the door. But Shepard did.

She sprang away, jumping to her feet as she yanked her shirt over her shoulders

 _Oh come_ on. James did the same, heading for the door as Shepard hid her bra behind her back. "Yeah?" He did his best not to glare at the soldier who interrupted what could have been the most memorable kiss of his life.

"Admiral Anderson would like to speak with you." When James didn't move, she added, "privately."

"On my way." James stepped out into the hall, letting the door slide shut behind him.

"No need, Lieutenant. I'm already here."

 _Shit._ James stood up straight, offering a salute. "Anything I can help you with, sir?"

"I need to escort Shepard to the Defense Committee."

"Sir?" What happened to the trial? This couldn't be good.

"Information's locked up tight. Sorry, Vega." Anderson glanced down the hall, towards the large windows on the right side. "If it's any comfort, I'm sure you'll hear about it soon enough."

James nodded. "She'll be right out, sir."

"You know the Commander?" James stopped in his tracks, eyeing the new hero of the Alliance. He had never seen Shepard's face lit up like that. Like the light of the sun.

 _I don't fraternize. Not anymore._

He'd also never seen her wash her face of any emotion so quickly. "I used to." Major Kaidan Alenko stared after Shepard, his words barely audible over the commotion in the hall. And then Shepard's vague responses started to fit together.

 _I don't make the same mistake twice._

James can see it in Major Alenko's eyes. The heartbreak. The longing. The crushing affection in spite of what would probably never happen. He'd seen the same in the eyes of his friends whenever Luis' sister passed by, smirking over her shoulder and swaying her hips ever so slightly. He had seen the same in the mirror whenever he got home and splashed cold water over his face before Luis could catch him blushing.

 _What I lost at Alchera._

No kidding. No way some stuffed shirt like Major Fucking Alenko would ever leave the Alliance to work with Cerberus. Whether his former bunk buddy was their new star or not. _Jesus Cristo._

He remembered the fire in her eyes as she growled at Caine in the bar. It reminded him of the way Luis' sister had stood up to James' dad. Slammed a right hook into his father's face when he threatened to whoop James' ass once again for no good reason. Luis' parents had named her Maria. But no one among their friends, not even Luis himself, had ever called her that.

It's then, as James sees Shepard step inside the court room, that he knows exactly what to call her.


End file.
